Grief is the ultimate tracker. It finds you. I was on a cruise, halfway across the Atlantic, surrounded by fun and food, isolated from interruption, detached from all digital tethers. I was working my way through a stack of novels my usual schedule will not allow. It was before the dawn, and I was looking out over the ocean with a steaming cup of coffee, with nothing to do – but relax and enjoy. It was there that grief found me. A phrase in a novel opened some closet in my soul and everything behind the door fell out. I felt my father – missed my father – grieved for my father – remembered our best moments … and his last moments. Eighteen months ago we said goodbye and grief made its rough intrusion into my life. I gave grief a corner and a bit of time for his healing works. One day he was gone, and I thought (against the advice I give others) … I imagined that his work was done. I imagined myself the exception to the rule, but flights of imagination tend to crash and mine crashed at sea. I had nothing to fear. Grief was just checking in, reminding me of the glory of fatherhood, the beauty of son-ship, the power of a temporary loss, and the certainty of a coming place and time where grief will no longer be able to track me down.
reposted with permission from onehope.net